


At Length, He Smiles

by ambivalentlangst



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angry Peter, Angst, Exhaustion, Gen, Give Tony Stark A Break, Guilt, Happy Referenced, Iron Dad, Migraine, Overworked Tony, Prompt Fill, Referenced Previous Bodily Harm, Sickfic, Whump, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-05-19 15:28:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14876378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambivalentlangst/pseuds/ambivalentlangst
Summary: Tony's had calls pouring in left and right all day, and even though Peter's following him around his lab as benignly as ever, Tony really,reallyjust needs a break.





	At Length, He Smiles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [taylor_tut](https://archiveofourown.org/users/taylor_tut/gifts).



> My part of an impromptu exchange with [@taylor-tut](https://tmblr.co/mQ32T2g3IxthQoyHIbgPAZQ), who prompted me with “something where Tony starts to get a migraine and tries to send Peter home very suddenly and without explanation and they argue about it until it hits full force and tony is Suffering™? :O” to which I agreed to write in the creation of my first Marvel fic. I hope you like it beef mom!!
> 
> * * *
> 
> tw: referenced previous bodily harm
> 
> * * *

Tony, as much as he liked to pretend he was with his kid—not his kid, really, but he might as well have been for how much Tony agonized over keeping him safe—was not fine. Sure, he could sip drinks with umbrellas in them at parties when Peter called and act suave, but at the end of the day, he had a shit load of work to get done. Happy could only take care of so much, after all, and he’d been especially worried ever since there was that incident with the new Stark building and the big bastard with wings who had taken it upon himself to try to kill a fifteen-year-old.

Peter didn’t need to know just how much he’d donated to see that when he went on trial, the man was put up against the best lawyers money could buy.

So, Tony felt bad because his kid had kind of almost died—the fact kept Tony up at night, but he tried not to show in front of Peter just how badly he’d scared him—and invited him to the lab. The only problem was that he’d had calls coming in left and right about how some place in South Korea had been razed to the ground by some lunatics with a spear (not Tony’s personal style, but the woman had apparently done some damage and he was grudgingly impressed). The problem for him was that the place was loaded with Stark technology that Tony had previously believed and advertised as infallible, and it hadn’t done shit.

He’d had people yelling at him all day, and as much as he enjoyed being a role model for Peter—who followed him around with stars in his eyes as he showed him everything he had in the works—he was five seconds and one more snippy phone call away from losing it, and he couldn’t handle it anymore. Peter was in awe behind him, chattering away about what he might be able to add to things when Tony spun, brow creased in pain and general exhaustion.

“Peter, why don’t you head home for the day?” Peter stared at him owlishly, confused.

“What?” Tony sighed, placing his hands on his shoulders. He wasn’t exactly great at being a role model (he wavered between being mad or just disappointed, and in his opinion, the kid did enough life endangering stuff to have that be deserved), but the little quirks he’d picked up with him around at least made him hope that he could try.

“This today just isn’t really working for me,” he repeated, slower. “So you,” he steered him towards the door, “Have to go. I’ll call Happy up to show you out in a minute.” His headache was building in the space between his eyes, picking up speed and turning from a leisurely and irritating throb to a more splitting pain.

As much as he liked Peter, he could be a handful.

“Woah woah woah, I told May that I wouldn’t be home tonight, ‘cause you said I could sleep over!” Tony frowned, fighting the urge to be overly brusque with him. He had made promises to Peter, he couldn’t exactly say that his anger was undeserved.

“You can still stay in your room.” He might’ve turned down the opportunity to be an Avenger, but Tony had kept the space readied for occasions such as this. Peter’s eyes looked from him to the lab. Tony felt a pang of guilt, overpowering his aching head for a moment, but Peter’s mouth screwed up angrily.

“It’s not about the room, Mr. Stark. It’s just that I was looking forward to this.”

Tony was a little too tired to decipher what he meant. “This?”

“Seeing what you do, asking me what I would do to improve it. You always treat me like I’m some kid, and now you’re finally _asking me_ for my input, and won’t even see it through to the end!” Tony immediately came up with a bad response to that, but frankly, he didn’t care what he said at the moment as long as it got the kid out of his hair and he could go get some Advil or something for his damn headache. It was growing into something akin to a physical force, a wall meant to block out the world that was steadily getting less tolerable the longer Peter hurled truths at him he didn’t have the energy to own up to.

“Listen, kid, it’s not that I don’t care what you have to say, but right now is a bad time for me to care about it,” Tony groused, and Peter rightfully bristled more at that.

“Do you ever? I let you fly me all the way to Germany at random, nearly died more than once trying to prove myself, and aside from that dumb little test with the new suit, you never stop and ask me what I want!” Tony knew the kid had enjoyed just about every second of the fight, but it didn’t stop him from remembering the panic and desperation he felt in every movement of his flailing limbs before he’d realized that he wasn’t being hurt. Something in Tony was bending, one more dol of the pressure building in him liable to make him snap. He stared at Peter’s knitted brows and flushed cheeks a moment longer before deflating all at once.

Peter, whether it was from the odd sixth (spidey, Tony called it, when he was in the mood to tease) sense he had about things, or just plain right brain power at work softened.

“Mr. Stark?” Tony stared at him, and for a moment forgot that he was supposed to be firing back quick deflections and retorts that would leave Peter fuming, but put in his place. It really had been a bad day, and the fact that he felt like someone was taking a jackhammer to his skull didn’t help.

“Some Advil, please,” he called out, whether to Peter or the tech he’d made, he didn’t care as long as the medicine got to him. The pills arrived, and he swallowed them down dry with a faint grimace, settling himself on the floor to breathe. Peter was uncharacteristically quiet, the only sound the hum of the machinery surrounding them. Slowly the pain was fading, but Tony knew thinking about everything that he still had to do would make it come back in an instant. He tried to focus on the light shaking of Peter’s leg instead, a constant he could zero in on while letting the rest of the world fade. That worked for a little, and then came Peter’s voice, bashful, apologetic.

“Sorry for yelling, Mr. Stark.” Tony dropped his head for a second, before sliding his eyes over to him. His cheeks were still red, but out of embarrassment now, if Tony had to hazard any sort of guess.

“It’s fine, kid. You’re right, anyway. I have an event next Friday, but how about the one after that? Same plan that we were supposed to follow today.” Peter lit up, though did his best to hide it with a quick nod.

“If it’s not too much trouble, Mr. Stark,” he told him, and Tony supposed that as he mussed Peter’s hair and the kid complained, time could always be salvaged if it made Peter smile.  



End file.
